


I could kiss you for hours

by crystaldeer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut, abundant use of parenthesis, episode 12 coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:45:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystaldeer/pseuds/crystaldeer
Summary: “I didn’t bring a gold medal for you to kiss” Yuuri whispers in the dark.“No, but… I don’t really mind? You do know I was joking about that” Viktor looks confused and before he can panic, Yuuri reaches for his hand and squeezes it.“I know, I know. What I meant to say was... Do you want to… Kiss me, instead?”or; Yuuri doesn't know how to ask for what he wants, but that's alright, because Viktor knows.





	I could kiss you for hours

**Author's Note:**

> _How would you like it if my lips touched yours_  
>  _And they stayed close baby ‘til the stars fade out_  
>  _How would you like it if I sucked before I bite?_  
>  _But it wasn’t too hard so it felt alright_  
>  _How would you like it if I held you in my arms?_  
>  _Round off your edges be a substitute for calm_  
>  **  
> **  
> [FKA Twigs- Hours](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVelTqXUotg)  
>   
> 
> Title is also from the FKA Twigs song. So, my most popular YOI fic here on ao3 is called "I've been saving all my summers for you" and I wrote that in a hurry after episode 3 aired, because _reasons_. But, as the anime progressed, I finished YOI with a very different vision of the characters, especially of Viktor, than the one I had when the anime started broadcasting, and so that one fic feels too OOC for me.
> 
> Everyone has a different hc of how their first time went. This is mine.

It is not that Yuuri is unaware of the audience watching them. Rather, the audience watching them during the Gala Presentation is akin to an afterthought, an irrelevant detail to what is happening between them _now_ , as Viktor’s eyes won’t leave Yuuri’s, as Yuuri lifts Viktor up and Viktor lifts him up in return, two princes out of a fairytale.

It is not shocking that Viktor is Yuuri’s prince, for he always was, really; but, that Yuuri might be Viktor’s, that is something he still has some difficulty wrapping his head around.

(Yuuri thinks that there will probably never be a point in his life that he will no longer be surprised at the fact that Viktor Nikiforov, figure skating legend and Yuuri’s never dying impossible crush, choose him.)

And Viktor is still his prince during the Gala Banquet, and their audience is still unimportant, because never once does Viktor leave Yuuri’s side that night, dragging Yuuri along with him whenever he wants to talk to someone else; Viktor is still his prince when he, somehow, manages to convince Yuuri to dance with him, teasing that “not drunk this time, so you will remember it.”

And even if Yuuri blushes furiously at that, he still accepts the dance, the _dances_ , still allows Viktor to live this fantasy of his all night long until their feet ache badly and they have to stop.

And when it gets a bit late and Yuuri is yawning too much, his prince, his Viktor walks him back to their room, holding his hand tightly all the way, a bright smile on his face. And Yuuri marvels at that smile and he finds that, for once, he doesn’t care that there are people watching them.

 (There’s a possessive, uglier part of himself that delights on having others see how, despite who Yuuri might be, Viktor is still _his_.)

They only separate when Viktor announces, sadly so, that they both need to shower before bed and Yuuri insists that Viktor should go first (because Yuuri is a bit restless, because he needs time to think, because he needs some privacy to admire the ring on his finger). Viktor even suggests that they should shower together now that they are _fiancés_ , but Yuuri, blushing furiously still, is able to convince him that the stall is probably too small for two grown men to fit in.

Yuuri knows it isn’t, though. Too small, that is. It’s just that, an _onsen_ is a different, _public_ place compared to the intimacy of a hotel bathroom. And Viktor and him, they never did much more than harder, slightly forceful kisses.

So, Yuuri thinks, he couldn’t possibly bear to look at Viktor’s beautiful nude form so closely without imploding. It is already difficult enough just imagining that he is naked with just a wall separating them. But, he lacks the confidence that comes with experience to open that door and join him.

(Yuuri _mostly_ doesn’t feel nearly as inadequate about being a virgin in Japan than he used to feel about being one in the United States, but, in general, Yuuri is used to just feeling inadequate all the time about every little thing.)

They never really discussed what to do with this newfound relationship of theirs. The notion of _they_ still fills Yuuri with an innocent sort of wonder, as if he is twelve again, watching Viktor trough the TV screen. But, they never set a direction for this to go to, Viktor rather insisting that he wants _everything_ , but at Yuuri’s pace. And, it is not that Yuuri doesn’t _want_ either. In fact, Yuuri wants very much so, has always wanted, can’t remember a time in his life that he didn’t want Viktor, can’t think of a time when he won’t want him.

But, Yuuri never really learned how to ask for what he wants. Especially for what he _really_ wants, maybe needs.

And so, when the bathroom door opens and Viktor comes out toweling his hair, dressed in a white, fluffy robe, water droplets following the curve of his neck and stopping at the hollow of his throat, Yuuri _wants_ , Yuuri _needs_ , but doesn’t ask. Instead, he excuses himself, holding his pyjamas against his chest, and tries to cool off his nerves by splashing his face with cold sink water.

When that proves useless, Yuuri masturbates quietly in the shower to the thought of Viktor’s wet, pale neck and chest. The feeling of shame only gets to him as he watches his come run down the drain.

(Yuuri can only hope Viktor won’t notice it written on his face as he exits the bathroom.)

Viktor himself is lying down on his bed, back against the headboard, dressed in casual looking pyjamas—and even if Yuuri feels a tiny pang of disappointment, he appreciates that Viktor is considerate enough to still not sleep in the nude next to him, not without expressed permission. Viktor reads a very lengthy book, and his face bears a concentrated frown that, Yuuri thinks, is _unfairly_ sexy, but Yuuri always thinks that Viktor is unfairly sexy.

Said frown, however, is quickly gone when Viktor notices Yuuri standing next to the bed. Instead, he cracks one of his bright, genuine smiles and Yuuri feels his knees buckle. Yuuri is still very bad at asking, even as he grabs a pillow on his own bed and stares at Viktor, hoping his gaze can convey something, anything.

“Can I…” Yuuri doesn’t finish the sentence, but gestures vaguely at Viktor’s bed, who smiles and moves aside, lifting the sheets so Yuuri can go in.

The sheets are very warm, in stark contrast to the otherwise cold winter air, and if Yuuri concentrates, he already can smell a very faint scent on them that is not laundry soap. And, maybe the bed is a bit small for the two of them, Viktor being unable to change them to a room with a king sized one at this time of the year, but the cramped feeling of their bodies so, so impossibly close feels perfect.

“What are you reading?” Yuuri asks, feigning a casual tone.

“It’s a book about the history of Russian tsars and the Romanov generations. A good chunk in the middle is just pictures, though” Viktor smiles, but rubs his eyes, tiredly so “I think I might need glasses…”

“You read a lot of non-fiction, don’t you?” Yuuri tries to focus on anything but the mental image of Viktor with glasses on. That proves difficult.

“Well, I like to learn, I suppose” Viktor scratches his head, looking adorably bashful “and with figure skating, you don’t have a lot of time to learn. I couldn’t go to college, so I found other ways to keep studying.”

“Do you plan to? Ever going to college, I mean.”

“Ah, yes. I still really want to study art. Maybe when you and I both retire, I can finally get my PhD in Art History…”

Viktor smile still doesn’t fade as he places the heavy book on the hotel’s night table and turns off the lamp, doesn’t fade as he snuggles facing Yuuri so, so closely. Yuuri is exhausted, his mind wearier and wearier as the adrenaline from the competition washes away from his veins.

Yet, Yuuri doesn’t want to sleep.

“I didn’t bring a gold medal for you to kiss” Yuuri whispers in the dark.

“No, but… I don’t really mind? You do know I was joking about that” Viktor looks confused and before he can panic, Yuuri reaches for his hand and squeezes it.

“I know, I know. What I meant to say was... Do you want to… Kiss me, instead?”

Viktor’s smile changes into a sly but sweet grin “But of course, _zolotse_. You didn’t even have to ask.”

Viktor embraces Yuuri, his hands holding him tightly by his shoulders, his lips sure and soft on his. Viktor’s body is warm and solid enough for Yuuri to never doubt that, _yes, this is happening, your childhood crush/idol is kissing you, he’s silly and adorable and infuriatingly ridiculous and he is kissing you_ , and his scent is so comforting that most of Yuuri’s performance anxiety—in all senses that expression could apply to him—are eased.

Most of them.

Once again, Yuuri wants so much and knows so little.

He wants to know what Viktor’s sweat would taste like on his tongue, if he moans or groans, what faces can he make, what does he _like_.

(Mostly, he has been needing the press of a warm body against his own for a _while_ , and perhaps it was for the best that Yuuri never really pursued all those people that showed any interest in him, because as for now, he will get to experience that with Viktor.)

But Yuuri doesn’t know how to get Viktor to sweat, or to moan, or to make faces, and he doesn’t know what Viktor likes. What he does know is that Viktor is an open book to him and that, if Yuuri asked for all of that, Viktor would give him. Viktor keeps giving too much for him and Yuuri is absolutely undeserving but, he is also very selfish when he wants to and if Yuuri took Viktor away from the world, then Yuuri will absolutely take everything Viktor wants to give him, with pleasure.

And so, he hesitantly licks Viktor’s lips, who receives the message very clearly and opens his mouth for him. And as Yuuri slips his tongue past those lips, Viktor leads him through it, because Viktor _always_ leads him, and _of course_ the minty toothpaste flavor on Viktor’s tongue tastes absolutely perfect and _of course_ Viktor is a terrific kisser and would bite Yuuri’s bottom lip and _of course_ this particular thing would arouse Yuuri more than anything he ever secretly watched.

(Or more than anything he ever imagined while looking at his posters of Viktor.)

As much as Yuuri feels the urge to push Viktor away and hide in the bathroom, he also feels that his desire and curiosity are, for once, speaking louder. And as Viktor’s legs intertwine with Yuuri’s and as Viktor’s hands leave his shoulders to carefully slip into his shirt and feel Yuuri’s back, the latter is sure that Viktor can do whatever he wants to him right now.

(Preferably, something involving those beautiful, _beautiful_ hands.)

Still, Yuuri can’t help but feel his face heat up and can’t help but look away to a very interesting spot on the wall when his hips press closer to Viktor’s and Viktor breaks the kiss with a very soft, almost inaudible, “ _oh_ ”. Because, _of course_ Yuuri is hard with just kissing, like a teenager, but, ah, how can he not be? When he is kissing the most gorgeous man in the world.

“Hey…” Viktor’s hand cups Yuuri’s face, making the man look him in the eye “It’s okay. No need to be embarrassed about it…”

“Still! We were just kissing, and I’m already like this…” Yuuri was hoping that his body heat at the moment would be enough to melt the bed, the floor and the subsequent beds and floors, so he could hide in the center of the Earth.

“Well, maybe that only shows how _good_ I am, right?” Viktor smiles insufferably and while Yuuri lightly swats the man’s arm, he also laughs.

“So… What should we do about it?” Viktor asks him, carefully, stroking Yuuri’s cheek.

“I... I don’t know.” Because there is so much he _wants to do_ so where could Yuuri start? “I just want you to take care of me, I think.”

“ _Ah_ , yes, Yuuri. Always…” Viktor’s tone is quiet and full of worship and Yuuri’s heart squeezes in his chest. “May I…”

“Yeah… _Please_ …”

Viktor brings their hips together once again, the fit perfect and right, and rocks them together and Yuuri doesn’t dare to speak, tucking his head beneath Viktor’s chin, breathing in his sweet scent, basking in the sensation of their cocks rubbing against one another, separated by their clothes. Viktor caresses his back, quietly moaning, kisses the top of Yuuri’s head. When Yuuri’s moans, themselves, become louder and louder in the silence of their room, Viktor shushes him sweetly, murmuring “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, _zolotse_.”

Viktor tucks his hand in Yuuri’s pants, takes his cock out so he can stroke them both at the same time and Yuuri wonders if other forms of sex feel better than this, because _this_ feels intense enough that Yuuri thinks that if they never do anything else, it’s fine. Because the feeling of Viktor stroking him like Yuuri is the most precious thing in the world is already everything he wanted and needed and Yuuri feels almost _blessed_.

And when Viktor lifts Yuuri’s head and kisses him again, drinking his timid moans, and doesn’t stop kissing him as if they don’t need to breath, Yuuri can feel a delightful sensation coiling in his loin. When the need for air becomes impossible to ignore, Viktor kisses Yuuri neck, reverently, teasing with just a scrape of his teeth and that is enough—Yuuri spills in Viktor’s hand with a quiet gasp, Viktor following him some moments later with a low moan that could work Yuuri up all over again, had he not been so tired.

Viktor cleans them up with some paper tissues from his toiletry bag and then hugs Yuuri tightly, indulging in their afterglow. Yuuri knows that the feeling of peace this brought him is not just lust, but choses to swallow those words for now, because it is too soon for that, because he already exposed enough of himself to Viktor for tonight.

But, the way Viktor’s breath catches when Yuuri kisses his chest, above his heart, tells Yuuri that Viktor _knows_.   

**Author's Note:**

>  _zolotse_ = gold (ahhhh you see what I did there?)
> 
> coming back to fic business after a busy month of finals
> 
> tumblr @ [florescativas](https://florescativas.tumblr.com/)


End file.
